


Midnight

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom John, Bottom John Watson, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Sex, Sleepy Sherlock, Top Sherlock, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 15:04:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7110496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John gets home at midnight and Sherlock asks him to bed</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight

John yawned as he climbed the stairs. Midnight, give or take a minute or two. Not chasing Sherlock this time, but out with some mates from the army that happened to be in town. An incredibly awkward set of hours wherein John realized he had little in common with them any longer and they realized the same, but by that point they were on their second pints and watching telly, so gradually the conversation had drifted into silence and three strangers sharing a table while they all ignored one another.

Stretching, John breathed in the familiar scent of Baker Street. It was dark and quiet, and he briefly wondered if Sherlock had gone out. There was noise from down the hall and John realized Sherlock had actually gone to bed of his own accord. _Well, would wonders never cease._

Hanging up his coat and toeing off his shoes, John walked down quietly to use the loo before heading up to his own bed. As he finished and washed his hands, Sherlock suddenly appeared in the doorway like a ghost in a victorian novel, all pale skin and wild hair. Though the ghosts in those stories usually weren’t stifling a yawn.

“It didn’t go well. You probably should have come home earlier, but since you were already out, you stayed.”

John gave him a smile as he dried his hands. “So, I suppose that means you _can_ deduce in your sleep.

“Come to bed,” said Sherlock, turning and heading back for his room.

John stayed where he was. Whatever this _thing_ was between them, they’d been taking it slow. There had been kisses, and sex, but true intimacy still wasn’t quite there. If they had sex in Sherlock’s bed, John would usually creep up to his own room after Sherlock was asleep. Or he’d wake up in the morning to Sherlock already gone, the blankets cold.

And now Sherlock was asking him to come to bed?

Well, whatever this thing was, he’d more or less been letting Sherlock set the tempo anyway. For a man so many saw as incurably arrogant, he was skittish when it came to more personal matters. John was happy to guide him, but he was apprehensive about pushing him too far, too fast.

Still, John was tired, and Sherlock’s bed was closer, so he supposed it was only logical that he come sleep in Sherlock’s bed. He walked in and found Sherlock sprawled across most of it, sheets tangled around his long legs.

Shaking his head. John stripped down to pants and undershirt, folding his clothes and putting them on the dresser. “Budge over,” he muttered, moving an arm and trying to find some space for himself.

“John,” muttered Sherlock, flopping over and snuggling against him all at once.

Rolling his eyes, John put an arm around him and ran fingers through the tangles of his hair. Sherlock wasn’t always this needy, but when he was, there was precious little he could do about it. And honestly he didn’t mind. After so many years in the military and overseas it was nice to have someone touch him.

Sherlock raised his head and began kissing the side of John’s throat.

John smiled. “Did you want something?”

“Maybe,” mumbled Sherlock, still sounding half-asleep, even as he wrapped a leg around one of John’s and rolled his hips against John’s thigh.

John chuckled and rolled them over so he was on top. “Are you awake enough for this?”

“I could just lie here and let you do the work,” muttered Sherlock, fumbling for the lube and passing it to John.

“You do that anyway,” retorted John.

“Not always.” Sherlock opened his eyes as John got up just long enough to drop his pants on the floor, then knelt over him again. He coated his own fingers and moaned softly as he started opening himself up.

Sherlock licked his lips and stroked one of John’s thighs.

“Well, you are waking up more by the minute, aren’t you?” said John.

“As are you,” said Sherlock, letting go of his thigh to give John’s cock a stroke.

John let his head drop back, and eyes close. “Yeah Sherlock, touch me.”

Sherlock ran his thumb over the head of John’s cock, smearing the pre-come already beading up. John cursed softly; there was something to be said for having a highly observant man take you to bed.

“Kiss me, John,” said Sherlock, leaning up.

John opened his eyes just long enough to smile at Sherlock, before leaning in for a slow kiss. It was far too late and they were both too tired for hurried movements.

As they continued to kiss, Sherlock nudged John forward until he could just nudge against his entrance with his cock. 

John broke the kiss and braced himself against Sherlock’s chest as he bore down against him, both of them moaning in unison at the sensation.

“God, Sherlock,” whispered John as he began to ride him.

“I don’t like it when you aren’t here,” admitted Sherlock, the sort of thing he’d only admit in the wee hours with the darkness around them. “I miss you.”

“I should have come home earlier,” said John, leaning down to kiss him, cock sliding between them, leaving a sticky, damp trail.

“But you were trying to be polite,” said Sherlock, running his hands slowly down John’s back, raising goosebumps in their wake.

“You get me every other night.”

“Not entirely true, but, I suppose, often enough.” Sherlock kissed him again, swallowing John’s retort.

They moved quietly together, the only sound that of skin on skin and panting breaths. Sherlock worked a hand between them to stroke John and he moaned again, sensitive to that delicate touch.

Sherlock rolled them over so he was on top, thrusting almost lazily into John as the smaller man wrapped his legs around his waist.

“Need more than that if we’re gonna come,” said John, nibbling his ear.

Sherlock grumbled and started moving faster, clinging to John. 

“That’s it. You’re gonna come, Sherlock. Gonna fill me up. Gonna make me come, aren’t you?”

“Yes, John,” Sherlock’s voice was practically a growl.

“Go on Sherlock, come for me.”

Sherlock thrust one more time and groaned as he came, going hips gradually slowing as he went limp on top of John.

“Hey,” said John, pushing him over. “I didn’t come yet.”

“Mm?” said Sherlock, already seeming to be falling asleep.

“You bastard,” grumbled John, taking himself in hand. 

Sherlock batted his hand away and swallowed him down. John gasped and grabbed the headboard, as Sherlock very quickly brought him to climax.

“There,” said Sherlock, licking his lips before leaning up to kiss John again. John cupped the back of Sherlock’s throat, and kissed him back, tasting himself on Sherlock’s lips.

Finally Sherlock pulled away and tucked his head against John’s shoulder again. John held him close and kissed his sweat-damp forehead. “Goodnight, Sherlock.”

“Goodnight.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the artstudentthatyouhate for reading along and giving it a quick beta.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [merindab.tumblr.com](http://merindab.tumblr.com)


End file.
